


Fight Me

by Megane



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Acrobatics, Aftercare, Blow Jobs, Bonding, Bruises, Canon-Typical Violence, Duty, Duty vs. Desire, Established Relationship, Experimental Style, Fighting Kink, First Aid, Hesitation, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Man vs. Self, Minor Injuries, Mutual Masturbation, POV Alternating, Rough Body Play, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Roughhousing, Scratching, Sparring, Summoning, Weapons, lost in thought
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9111694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: The four decide to spend the day sparring. After great hesitation, Ignis gets his ass into gear and gives Noctis a proper match. It goes better than he expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Quick and rough— that's this story to a T.

The clashing of metal on metal was deafening. Shots rang through the air and ricocheted off weaponry. Feet pounded against the stone, either charging or running away. Laugher sprang up between grunts of effort and above the battle cries.

     “Aaah—! Noctis! You're pretty fast, huh?” Prompto asked, grinning when Noctis dodged each of his bullets.

Prompto's quick footwork allowed him to dodge Noctis' direct attacks easily. The prince frowned with each strike he missed. 

     "Stay still, dammit," Noctis grunted.

     Prompto only laughed as he slipped out of the way. "No way!"

He willed away his gun before shoving Noctis further past him. Without warning, he balanced on one foot and kicked his leg out. His foot connected with Noctis' back, and he heard the prince groan before colliding with the ground. "Sorry, buddy!" Prompto called out as he ran towards Gladio. He spun around the taller male and pressed their backs together. Gladio quickly glanced over his shoulder towards Prompto before asking,

     "You got a plan?"

     "I'm thinking we can fake him out." Prompto spun his pistol around his trigger finger before holding tightly onto the grip. "I go low; you go high."

     "Sounds good to me."

     "What's he doing?"

     "Getting back up."

As Gladio said that, Noctis was struggling back up to his feet, glaring their way. His sword was on the floor, but it was soon engulfed in a white light and vanished. Prompto turned his head to the right and sucked in a breath. 

     "Alright. Duck down!"

They moved as one. Prompto spun around; Gladio ducked down, and Prompto slid over his back. He landed on his feet and dropped down into a kneeling position. He readied himself as if he was about to unleash fire upon Noctis, and the prince was quick to react. He crossed his arms in an X-position in front of his face. His right hand was in a tight fist while the left was flat open. Noctis' Zweihander materialised with one hand on the grip and the other flat against the blade. Noctis' breath came in ragged breaths; his entire body was burning up, but he waited for Prompto to fire. His mind was going a million miles per hour, trying to plan what his next steps were, but after a few seconds, no shots came.

He lowered his sword and stared at Prompto with narrowed eyes, and the blond confirmed his suspicions with a grin.

     “Fake out!” Prompto shouted.

He leaned forward, hands flat against the ground, gun resting under his right palm. He heard Gladio jump into the air behind him and stood up once Gladio landed in front of him. Prompto focused, driving his magic into his left hand. He rolled his pistol, gripping it tight once again once he felt it change into a silver and black six shooter. He hovered his left hand over the hammer of his gun, sucking in a slow, even breath until Noctis ran backwards, coming directly into his line of fire. Prompto held his breath, leaning his weight to the right as he rocked back the hammer in rapid succession. Noctis jerked up to attention, flinging himself ungracefully out of the way. He was shot across the ankle of his left leg and over the shin of his right. He focused on Prompto, steadying himself for a moment.

Prompto turned away to reload. He ducked himself down and ran out of the immediate line of battle. He tilted his six shooter up towards the sky and popped the barrel. Bullets fell from the chamber and clinked on the ground. He didn't stay stationary as he refilled his chamber– he had learned a while ago not to if he could help it. Prompto turned, walking backwards when the bullets fit perfectly. Just as he snapped the barrel back into place, two feet collided with his chest. Prompto cried out as Noctis spring boarded off of him and tucked back into a somersault. Prompto went down hard.

Gladio looked over to see Prompto fall. He took a step back and dug his greatsword into the hardened earth. “Switch,” he called out to Noctis, splaying his fingers out.

Panting, Noctis nodded. He reached up to wipe his forehead with his right arm. After the brief respite, he charged towards the heavy hitter. He outstretched his hands. When their hands came together, Gladio laced their fingers together and took a step forward. Noctis stepped onto Gladio's thigh and used it to jump up. He braced his weight down onto his arms as Gladio lifted him up overhead and into the air. Power transferred between their touching palms.

After a mental count of three, Gladio ducked down and then shoved Noctis into the air. Their hands pulled apart from each other, leaving behind a trail of magic. Noctis threw a curved knife off to the side, transporting himself into that new spot, while Gladio caught the battle hammer that materialised and dropped down into his hands. He found a firm grip over the body of the hammer and charged towards Noctis. The hammer head had two sides: one with nine triangular points which didn't hit Noctis and a flat, polished side which did.

Noctis was smart enough and quick enough to use a Protect spell on himself, but he still took the brunt of the attack when it connected. “Gotta bolster up your magic,” Gladio said as he spun the hammer between his hands. Noctis looked about ready to retort, but then Ignis came at him, knives slashing. It was a brief enough distraction that caused the prince to dance backwards and into safety. Gladio rose up to his full height, spun tossed the hammer up over his head, caught it, and then slammed the spiky side down onto the ground. The impact sent a hard tremor forward, under his companion's feet. Gladio slammed again, this time throwing Ignis a bit off balance as well, but when Noctis fell back, flimsily catching himself with his left hand, Gladio charged, grinning and thinking he had Noctis on the ropes.

But sadly for him, Ignis had taught Noctis a thing or two about acrobatics.

Noctis pushed from the ground with his left hand and foot. He missed Gladio's hammer thrust. The prince coiled into a perfectly executed butterfly twist and came down with his left foot against Gladio's shoulder blades. He doubled the assault with a dual attack of materialised knives, driving the pommels into Gladio's back. As Gladio collapsed, Noctis lunged forward into a forward tuck until he was on his feet again.

That only left Ignis.

Ignis stood off to the side. He drew in long, hard breaths. His mind calculated his next plan of attack. He knew Noctis' strengths and weaknesses when it came to mobility. Playing against them would be an easy thing, laughably simple for him. He took a step back with his left foot and spun his daggers to keep his mind focused.

It wouldn't be difficult. It wouldn't be difficult.

Ignis tightened his hands around his knives and ducked his head as Noctis came charging forward.

It would…

He felt the initial contact of a fist colliding against him. The fringes of magic crackled against his cheek, and Ignis knew Noctis changed his attack mid-launch. Ignis staggered, the barrage of attacks that followed after were mindboggling. He was on his stomach before he had a chance to truly process it. Ignis curled his fingers against the stone underneath his form. His mind was still; pain had settled quickly into a numbing cloud that descended evenly all over his body.

     Noctis scoffed. “Too easy,” he said offhandedly, tellingly breathless. “You're gonna have to step your game up.”

Ignis specifically. He could tell from the tone, but the bespectacled advisor knew that his mind was too conditioned to a particular demand.

 _Protect him_ : it was both an order and a personal desire. It hit him down to his core when they were in other forms of combat, but apparently, even in sparring, it applied here as well. Noctis lowered himself down, passing the healing touch of Cura onto his advisor. Ignis curled his fingers against the stone, and he sat up with a groan of pain. Satisfied with that, Noctis moved onto the others. He ran a healing hand down the length of Gladio's back, and he ruffled Prompto's hair. Probably would have been better to touch the other's chest, but Prompto's defeat pose was face down, ass up.

Noctis would make _sure_ to tease Prompto about that later.

He took a few steps back, watching as his companions slowly came up to their feet. He took note of each face, trying to gauge how they were feeling without directly asking them. Prompto was wincing; he slowly brought a hand up to his chest and whispered a raspy “Ow…”. Gladio rolled his shoulder, eyes closed for a moment. Noctis turned to face Ignis, who rose up silently. He felt over his face, fingers grazing along his jaw. But there was an intensity in Ignis' eyes that made it hard to break eye contact. Noctis cleared his throat and turned away, walking down the natural slope of the stone structure they found themselves upon.

     “C'mon. Let's head back to camp and get you losers straightened up.”

     “Don't get too cocky,” Gladio warned, following after a soft groan.

     “I'm sorry. _Who_ was the winner here?” Noctis twisted back to grin up at Gladio, who just narrowed his eyes ever so slightly before letting out a huff.

Prompto began following after, glancing over to Ignis before noticing the advisor was still fixed in his place.

     “Coming, Iggy?” Prompto asked gently, pulling up a little smile, making himself look all the more like a wounded puppy.

Ignis closed his eyes and pushed up his glasses with his middle finger. His every action was slow and deliberate. When he finally began forward, he was still silent. Prompto watched him for a moment before quietly falling into step.

     “You're okay?” Ignis asked after a tense moment, staring through his lashes at the world ahead of him.

     Prompto gave a deep nod. “Mhm. I'm okay. How about you?”

     “…… My pride is at question.”

     “Aww, poor Iggy. Just means that Noct's growing up. Soon, he'll be as bad ass as Gladdy!”

     “I heard that,” Noctis said from his position up from front.

Prompto grinned, but Ignis remained silent at his side. Ignis' mind had travelled to a distance place, and it wasn't long before he found himself lost in thought.

     “Settle down, Prom, Specs. Gonna get the first aid kit,” Gladio said as he headed to the Regalia.

     “I don't get any treatment?” Noctis asked, crossing his arms and stepping forward with his left foot.

     “Winners shouldn't need anything, right?” Gladio goaded, glancing back to smirk at Noctis.

     Noctis scoffed and let his eyes fall close. “Sore loser. Aren't you supposed to be graceful in defeat?”

     “Who said that?”

Noctis hummed pleasantly and opened his eyes only to watch Prompto guide Ignis into the chairs to sit. Ignis leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs, and Noctis only raised his brows. Ignis was taking his loss pretty hard, wasn't he? Noctis swung his left foot back and forth, silently keeping watch over Ignis.

Ah, how the tables have turned.

     “Cheer up, sunshine,” Gladio said as he knelt down in front of Ignis, who met his gaze evenly and then pulled off his glasses. “Where's it hurt?”

Ignis turned his head and stroked along his jaw and neck. Gladio nodded silently and took care of any scrapes and bruises on the advisor's skin.

     “Prom, how ya holdin' up?”

     “Chest hurts. That's about it. Might have some cuts, but nothing unusual.”

     “Noct?” Gladio flicked his gaze up to the prince.

Noctis looked over himself, turning his arms and noticing that his right elbow was looking pretty rough. He bent forward and looked at his legs, finding more scrapes. He gave a small noise as he stood up straight.

     “I could use a little care.”

     “And Gladio's gonna be our nurse today, huh?” Prompto leaned forward, hovering a hand near Gladio's right cheek. “You came out of this worse than us.”

     “Happens.” Gladio smirked, glad to hear that he had battle marks as well.

Gladio drew his hands back after he had taken care of Ignis, and then he traded places with Prompto, letting the blond take care of him as well. Ignis closed his eyes and stood up from his chair.

     “I'll heat up lunch.”

     Prompto looked up, hovering the cotton swab over Gladio's cheek. “Mn. Okay, Iggy.”

Ignis walked over to their cooking area and opened the pot, checking up on their food. Ignis adjusted his gloves and dipped his pinky into the broth, testing the temperature. He sucked the tip of his finger, reached over, and turned on the gas fire. After setting the pot over the fire, Ignis slotted the lid back over the pot. Noctis slid up to Ignis' side, watching his face carefully.

     “Everything okay?”

     “I was just thinking.” Ignis lowered his hand away, setting it on his hip. “Noctis, fight me again.”

     “Huh?”

     “Fight me. Again,” Ignis repeated patiently.

     Noctis stood up straight, smirking up at Ignis. “Alright. If it'll knock you out of your own head for a bit.” He turned his back to Ignis and waved to the others. “We're gonna go sparring again.”

     “Food's on the burner. Don't forget to stir,” Ignis said in passing as he followed after Noctis.

     “Good luck!” Prompto shouted, to whom it was unclear.

     “Give 'im hell, Ignis.”

Ah… Ignis would try.

He pulled off his spectacles, checking the lenses against the sunlight before cleaning them against his shirt. Noctis walked ahead, foot touching confidently against the floor, hips swaying with every forward step, and fingers half curled at his sides. He looked up at the sky, admiring the frayed white clouds against the rich blue hue. A breeze passed over him, providing a refreshing chill against his skin.

They climbed up to the stone plateau; Ignis came to stand to Noctis' left, and together, they stared out towards the lakeside and rolling hills just down below. The moment was sobering. Ignis felt his mind clear, just for the little while. Afterward, he looked over towards Noctis and asked,

     “Ready?”

     “Are you?” came Noctis' cheeky reply. The prince wandered off towards the right, putting some distance between the two of them.

Ignis flicked his hands backwards, conjuring his daggers into his hold. The texture of the grips felt comforting against his bare palms. He let out a long breath through his nose and nodded to Noctis, who raised his right arm into the air. A longsword materialised; its blade was a polished black. The hand guard was large and fancifully ornate. After grabbing the handle with his left hand as well, Noctis ran forward.

The beginning stage of their battle involved Ignis dodging. As each strike came, Ignis was astonished by how easily Noctis was maneuvering with his weaponry. Ignis could tell how much was training and how much was on the spot thinking. Quick reflexes would serve the prince well, but he also had tells, holes in his offense that would have been easy to manipulate. Ignis jumped back away from a strike and leaned back when a horizontal blow came for him. He dodge rolled out of the way and ran to create distance. He stood up straight, panting now from their dangerous dance. He turned back to see Noctis suddenly behind him. Ignis' eyes widened, and the lance thrust forward towards him.

The pointed tip of the lance stopped in front of his face; a rush of wind blew past him. Noctis stood picturesque as the wind rustled his clothes and hair. The weapon disappeared, and Noctis stood up straighter.

     “I thought you were going to fight me,” Noctis said. He didn't give Ignis a chance to reply; he moved closer, pressing their fronts together. “Afraid to hurt me?”

It wasn't that– not entirely. It wasn't a _fear_ , per se. Ignis looked off to the side, feeling a thread of frustration cord up through his body. But then he felt Noctis' hands slide over his waist then down against his ass. Noctis curled his fingers. Ignis jolted slightly and looked down to see Noctis smiling up at him like a content cat.

     “So I'll be a little bruised. Isn't that the point?”

     “Yes, but–”

     “And I'll get a little stronger. Isn't that good too.”

     Ignis met Noctis' eyes and nodded. “It is.”

     “Fight me, Ignis,” Noctis said, repeating the words with his own low seductiveness. Ignis wondered if he was aware of it. “Give me your all.”

     It took a moment before Ignis found his voice in a low rumble of words. “No holding back?”

     Noctis' lips parted, and he trembled, pleased by the tone. He could see that intensity again. “No holding back.”

     “Alright. Let's go.”

Noctis grinned and pulled back, clapping his hands together before he moved to get some space. Ignis dug into his pockets. He grabbed three magic bombs before stuffing all but one of them into his breast pocket where they would be easier to retrieve. This would change his movements for a while, but he would adjust. The bomb in his hand widened; he tossed it up into the air. Regen magic exploded overhead and rained down over them. Ignis could feel the healing touch tickle against his skin. He opened out his arms to his sides, waiting for Noctis to give him the go. Ignis opened his fingers, letting his weapons drop out of his hands and dissipate. He ran forward.

Noctis summoned a bo staff; he jutted the weapon forward, but Ignis dodged to the side, keeping up his momentum. He placed a hand on Noctis' shoulder, jumped up to straddle the prince's back, and then lurched himself backwards. Noctis' eyes widened when he felt Ignis legs curl around his middle, and then he cried out as he was tossed backwards. He barely caught himself. His arms scraped against the stone, but he held the bo staff firm in his hand. He saw a magic bomb in its retracted form on the ground. He needed to get to it.

Ignis brought his hands up over his head and came down with a conjured staff. Noctis lifted up onto his knees, deflecting the attack just in time. He felt his pole arm press down almost painfully against his palms, but he took the pain and ran with it. Literally. He came up to his feet, meeting each of Ignis' attacks easily. When they clashed against each other, struggling to overcome the other person, Noctis met Ignis' gaze and was thrilled by the fierce stare.

But his mind instantly went back to the magic bomb. He needed that. He leaned himself towards Ignis, thinking on how he could get closer. Ah. It came to him. He feigned to the left while instantly lifting up the pressure on his right arm. Ignis extended his stance, sliding his right foot out, and pushed against Noctis, tossing him to the side. Noctis was knocked to his right, and he didn't waste time, scrambling towards the magical item on the floor. He slid for it, grabbing it as he passed by.

He felt the power radiating from within, fearsome and consuming, hot like fire but not quite the same. He rolled to the side, missing Ignis' downward strike, and curled up into a forward tuck, just barely dodging out of the way of a ground sweep. Noctis came to his feet and underhand tossed the magic bomb into the air. He lowered his hands on the bo staff and swung it. The magic bomb exploded on impact, releasing the flare spell like fireworks.

Ignis jerked back from the collision magic, feeling the heat radiate. Flare embers sparked in the air, reacting to the regen energy. He dropped his hand in shock as Noctis dove through the magic to tackle him. Ignis' staff was knocked from his hand, and he came down onto his back with Noctis straddling his chest. Noctis smirked, shuddering out a laugh as he tried to catch his breath.

     “Better,” he said, staring down at Ignis.

He slid his hands up to Ignis' hair, knotting his fingers into the ash brown locks. He kissed Ignis— it was quick and hot and desperate, and Ignis could feel the flare magic warm on Noctis' skin. He moved his hands to the prince's forearm and rolled Noctis to the side. He pushed Noctis down on the ground and settled between nimble, toned legs. Noctis' chest lifted and fell; the smile on his face was so pleased, energised. Ignis heard that order _Protect him_ in the back of his mind, but this was working out far better.

How else to protect the Prince than to teach him how to protect himself? That, and… this was going in a much better direction than Ignis would have anticipated. He rocked forward, brushing his lips against Noctis' neck, tasting sweat against the hot skin, but he hardly cared. Noctis curled his fingers against the dark purple shirt Ignis wore. The advisor pulled back, breathless now and needing to redirect his energy. He had one magic bomb left, and he knew exactly how to use it.

With a parting kiss, Ignis came to his feet and took a few step backwards. Noctis drew his legs up to his chest and then kicked up from the ground. He shook out his arms to bring himself back to the moment. He bounced on his feet and wiped his forehead with the back of his arms with a shaking exhale. Ignis reached out his right hand, conjuring a curved sword; Noctis matched him.

There was blood this time, even with the dodging and the parries, and their footwork was faster. Noctis' eyes moved between Ignis and the swords. The metallic ringing of weapons clashing together was seductive, invigorating. Both Noctis and Ignis felt their hearts pound with every connection of their weapons. Ignis jumped back and removed the last bomb he had. He tossed it behind Noctis, and a solid wall of earth shot up behind the prince. Ignis surged forward to close the space between him and the prince. Noctis groaned when he was shoved against the wall. Their swords fell to the ground, forgotten. Regen sent chills up their spines, but their needful, desperate grabs at each other caused heat to build in their stomachs.

Noctis reached up, pulling open Ignis' shirt, and ran his fingers down over Ignis' pectorals. His lips found slender collar bones. He kissed up Ignis' neck, giving a parting bite when his head was pulled backwards. Ignis moved his hands under Noctis' shirt, holding onto the other's hips, palms fitting against the noticeable curve of Noctis' waist. They kissed with the same intensity as they did on the floor. Noctis' hips rocked upward minutely, the intention clear. His need for contact was all but spoken.

     “Ignis,” Noctis breathed, moaning softly when the kiss was broken.

Ignis lowered down, biting and kissing over his Prince's neck. Noctis ran his thumbs over Ignis' nipples, tugging at them, twisting his fingers against them, and Ignis briefly growled in response. Noctis bit at his bottom lip, so weak to the noise. Ignis' hands lowered down to his pants, and Noctis followed in kind.

Ignis' shirt had been pushed back, sleeves caught on his biceps; Noctis' shirt was pushed up to his chest. Their bodies had a sheen of sweat from their little spar, their hair mussed. Scrapes and cuts and bruises littered their bodies, but to one another, they've never looked better. Their cocks were freed from their lower garments. Noctis leaned forward, wanting to return the love bites that Ignis surely left on him. Ignis panted and shuddered in his ear. Their hands glided over each other's cocks. There was a need to make the other cum first, but Ignis paused in his actions, edging Noctis right before he could finish. Noctis faltered, distracted by the denial.

     “Let me,” Ignis said– but it wasn't a suggestion. It was an order, low and authoritative.

Ignis' voice made Noctis moan, and Noctis brought his hand back. He used it to hold his own shirt up, freeing Ignis' hand. He felt fingers tangle in his hair, wrenching his head back— lips settled over his own, and his moans fell as weak whimpers when he felt his orgasm speeding closer. He didn't have a chance to warn; his legs trembled. He rose up higher on his feet, toes curling in the confines of his boots as he came over his own stomach.

Noctis barely needed a minute to recover. When the fingers came out of his hair, he lowered down to his knees. Ignis raised his hands to the wall in front of him, watching as Noctis sucked along his base and took his cock easily. Each suck made his stomach dip. He curled his fingers against the erected stone. When it crumbled away under his touch after the magic worn off, Ignis reached down with shaky fingers, raking back Noctis' hair to keep it out of his eyes. He spread his legs enough to keep a steady stance. Ignis' breath hitched; his grip tightened and relaxed in telling intervals. When Noctis leaned forward, pressing his lips flat against Ignis' base, that was enough to make the advisor unravel.

Noctis squeezed his eyes tight, unable to ignore the tears in the corner of his eyes as Ignis came so easily down his throat. He scratched his nails against Ignis' hips, leaving fine lines of red in his wake. When he pulled back, his lips were a deep shade of red, kiss swollen and well fucked. He came up to his feet slowly to dismiss how dizzy the entire interaction left him. Ignis collected the prince in his arms. They kissed again. It wasn't as heavy or demanding, but as their tongues brushed against one another, Ignis blushed at the taste of himself but didn't shy away from it.

He broke the kiss first and touched his lips gently to Noctis' forehead. When they both had a chance to recover, they straightened themselves up. Afterward, Noctis slid his hands into Ignis' back pockets.

     “Are you alright?” Ignis asked, voice breathy but concern evident.

     Noctis gave an easy going smirk. “Don't worry, Specs. I'm fine.”

His voice was gravelly, husky, and Ignis found himself incredibly drawn to the sound, especially since he knew what was the cause of it. He opened his mouth to—

     “Don't you dare have an apology,” Noctis said, still smiling but serious all the same. “That was _amazing_.”

Ignis relaxed, sighing and offering up a small smile.

     “ _Hot,”_ Noctis added, biting his lip when he looked down to Ignis'. “You should fight me again next time.”

     “And again and again?” Ignis replied playfully. He knew the answer.

     Noctis met his eyes. “Exactly.”

     Ignis smirked and then reached up to cup Noctis' face with one hand. “Let's get a change of clothes and clean up.”

     “Sounds good to me,” Noctis said right before they kissed again.

It's calmer, sweeter this time, but Noctis would never forget the fire that Ignis housed on the inside.


End file.
